#sad!sam

Art Notes:

It’s so completely late, but after I missed the deadline I just decided to take the time to clean it up and make it all finished looking for this one at least. It also helped that that the mods of the event didn’t seem to mind late entries. Hopefully that hasn’t changed after 11 days.🤞

I would have been done with this short comic earlier, but tbh it was hard for me to work on it because the subject was affecting me so much. I can torture Sam in a lot of bloody ways but I can’t handle the emotional angst as much lately.

Like the last few times I’d rather go into detail on Ao3 when I make that post. But, long story short, I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do for this theme until way too late. And then I remembered 2x04 where Sam buried John’s tags at Mary’s headstone, and then I figured maybe Sam might do the same with the Samulet.

And in 11x23, Dean said that he wanted his ashes buried at this grave site. But instead of his ashes, I thought the Samulet was more poetic and fit the theme that this was a family grave with no remains in it. It just has Mary’s headstone, John’s tags, and now the samulet. And, the samulet could be a representation of both Sam and Dean and thus the family is symbolically finally together again. Idk, it depends on how people want to take it.

The dialogue was a parallel to when Sam said “I love you, Mom” at Mary’s headstone in 2x04 after he buried his Dad’s tags and I like to think of it as a sort of reply to Dean saying he loved Sam in 15x20′s barn scene.

Anyways,

A week later

Y/N is pushing the cart through the grocery store with Isabella sitting in the seat. 

As they walk down one of the aisles, Y/N smiles at the older lady that is standing there.

“Hello Mrs. Carlyle.”

“Oh, hello Y/N. Hated to hear about your mother. She was such a sweet lady,” Mrs. Carlyle says.

“Thank you.”

“Who is this beauty?” the widow asks.

“This is my daughter Isabella,” Y/N explains looking down at the brown-haired, green-eyed little girl.

“Oh yes. I heard you had a child,” Mrs. Carlyle says and the tone of voice causes Y/N cackles to rise. “The father isn’t in the picture, is he?”

“As a matter of fact, he is. He takes care of Isabella and I very well,” Y/N informs the old woman.

“Well, you couldn’t tell it by looking. All we ever see coming and going from your house is your older brother, Dean. And we know he can’t be the father. He’s your brother,” Mrs. Carlyle sneers.

Y/N has to bite her tongue to hold back all the words she wants to say to this old badger. Not only are they inappropriate for her little girl to hear but she is in public. But she puts the biddy in her place. 

“Okay, that’s it. One, my daughter and I are very well taken care of and do not ever want or need for anything. And two, who cares if my brother is at my house all the time. 

“He is my brother, Isabella’s uncle. Maybe he just wants to spend time and get to know his niece. What I suggest for you to do is quit worrying about what goes on under the roof of my house. It is none of you damned business!”

Y/N takes a breath to calm down. 

“Now have a good day Ma’am.”

She walks away from the busybody and heads to the front of the store. Y/N knows she has to get out of there before she really makes a scene.

In the car, she calls Dean but before she can tell him what happened, he asks her if she’s talked to Sam lately.

“You know I haven’t Dean,” Y/N breathes out. “We were just getting back on the right path when Mom died and I don’t know, he just stopped. Why? Have you? Is there something wrong?”

“I know but I thought maybe he had finally called you,” Dean says over the noise behind him. “I can’t get him to answer my calls. I’m beginning to worry. I’m thinking about going up there for a few days.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Y/N agrees. “Isabella and I will go with you. I need to get away from this town and all the meddlesome snoops here.”

“What happened?”

“I’ll tell you tonight,” she explains. “When do you want to go to Kansas City?”

Once at home, Y/N gets Isabella taken care of and then goes to her room to pack a suitcase with enough clothes to get them through a few days.  She goes to the chest of drawers where she knows Dean keeps a few extra changes of clothes and packs those into a duffel.

Dean comes in that night, surprised to find that Y/N has not only packed a  bag for her and their daughter but for him also. He quickly showers before joining her in bed, knowing they have no idea how their trip to see Sam will pan out.

The Impala gleams in the early morning light; the dew on the exterior makes it look like it sparkles with diamonds.

The almost hour-long trip speeds by with no problems and before they know it, Dean is pulling into the driveway of Sam’s ranch style, split-level home that he and Jess had bought when they first got married. 

All the curtains on the windows are pulled closed and Y/N can tell from the passenger side of the Impala that there is at least a week’s worth of newspapers littering the doorstep. The scene before her eyes worries and disturbs her. Out of all three Winchester siblings, Sam is the closest to ever being considered OCD, so to see his home in such a mess is troublesome.

Dean opens the driver’s side door and steps out, walking to the back door and opening it to pull Isabella from her carseat. The couple and their daughter start for the front door, where Y/N rings the bell.

After a few minutes and still no one answers, she looks at Dean anxiously. “Maybe he isn’t home?” she asks, already knowing that it’s a minute possibility; his car can be seen through the window of the garage.

“Nah, his car is here,” Dean says motioning toward the garage with his head. “Here,” he hands the babe to her mother. “Let me try.”

He begins banging loudly on the door and yelling through the wooden barrier. “Sam Winchester! Get your scrawny ass out here and let us in!”

Dean continues knocking until they hear the telltale sounds of the lock being unlatched and the door opens. Neither of them were prepared for what they see.

Sam is standing there in rumpled clothes that looks like he’s worn them for at least a few days, if not a week or more; his hair is in disarray, half of it is molded to his head while the other half looks to have not seen a comb in a while. 

Y/N notices his features are more lifeless than they were after his baby died; his skin is pale, except for the dark circles that encompass his sunken eyes. Sam Winchester looks like he hasn’t seen the sun for three damn months. 

Has he even been out of the house since Mary died?!

Sam looks at them like he doesn’t even see them; like he is dazed and confused. Dean pushes past his brother and scoffs at the state that the house is in.

“Sammy, I’m surprised at you,” he admonishes. “I know Jessica would be disappointed in you.”

That seems to pull Sam out of his stupor as he says, “Shut up about her. You don’t know anything about her! She was my wife, not yours.”

Y/N stands in the entryway, holding Isabella’s face against her shoulder. She didn’t want her daughter to remember her uncle like this. And she knew deep down Sam didn’t want the little girl to see him this way either. 

Dean finally persuades some sense into Sam and they sit on the sofa while Y/N lays Isabella, who went to sleep, on the loveseat across the room. She busies herself with picking up the dirty dishes and half-eaten food while her two brothers talk.

TAGS ARE OPEN!

"You comin'?" A bit confused, the younger Winchester unbuckled his seatbelt and followed suit. He had assumed that they would spend the next hour or two driving around, but it seemed that wasn't the case. Dean was leaning against the trunk of the car, a small cooler perched precariously on top, and in his hand, a bottle of beer. It was only when he held another one out to Sam that he finally understood.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he questioned hesitantly. "We still have to drive back." Dean shook his head lightly.

"I'm only having the one," he reassured. "'Sides, this is for her." The two boys popped the caps off with satisfaction and took a deep swig.

Dean knew it wasn't a good idea to drown his sorrows in booze. He had done it several times before, and it never turned out well. So, this time, he wasn't going to. For Y/N. She deserved that much. Hell, she deserved way more than that. Hunting wasn't an easy job. No matter how simple the case, it was always dangerous, and it always required putting everything on the line. Y/N knew that, but every single time, she was willing to risk her life anyway. When it came to her hunting skills, she could sometimes outrank Sam and Dean, but even she couldn't escape death. Death came for everyone in the bitter end, and Y/N wasn't any different.

"Listen," she had once said. "When I die-" That had been enough to make the brothers practically choke on their dinner. She had always made a point of talking about death like she wasn't afraid of it. She had always been so funny in that way. The conversation had been years ago, and so out of the blue, but neither Sam nor Dean would ever forget her frown when they asked her not to talk about that, or what she said next. "I'm serious! This is important, and I want you to listen to me." The Winchesters had gone silent, shifted uneasily in their chairs before she finally continued. "Don't waste your thoughts, wondering if you could've done something different." Sam's throat grew tight at the memory. "Whatever happens happens. And if you try to bring me back by selling your soul or some stupid shit like that-" The fiercely determined glint in her eyes made Dean laugh. "I will literally kill you way before some fucking hellhound can." Then, her eyes had softened. "You two are my family. And I don't regret a single thing. So, when it happens, do me a favor." That bright smile she gave them was forever seared into their memories, and it made their hearts ache with the bittersweetness of it all. "Have a beer for me."

Wordlessly, Sam retrieved one more beer from the cooler and set it on the trunk, unopened. This was the hardest part. The traditional hunter's funeral had been much easier in comparison. The thing was, Sam and Dean had done that before. They had burned some of the people closest to them and watched them turn to ash. But this was new. Honoring their best friend's wishes by having a drink like she was here. They knew she would never intend for it to be this way, but it was almost like some kind of cruel joke. Still, a promise was a promise. So, they swallowed their pain and heartbreak of losing another friend. Sam released a long, shuddering breath as he looked up at the stars. Crickets chirped softly in the peaceful darkness. The only thing that gave either Winchester peace was knowing that she would've loved this.

The soft clink of glass caught the youngest Winchester's attention. He turned his gaze down to see his older brother holding the neck of his bottle against Y/N's, eyes swimming with tears that he refused to shed.

"To Y/N." Dean's voice came out a bit choked, but still, he fought past it. Sam gave a watery smile as he cleared the emotion from his throat, nodding. The sound of glass clinked again as he tapped his bottle to the other two.

"To Y/N."

Thanks so much for reading!

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My Everythings:

They’re sitting on the floor in the hallway. Sam’s pulled his knees against his chest, his head resting on his arms. Dean is right by his side.

“I’m broken,” Sam says quietly.

Dean’s brow furrows. “You’re not brok -“ But Sam looks up quickly and grabs Dean’s arm.

“Yes Dean, I am broken. You have no idea what’s going on in here!” His voice escalates as he jabs his finger to the side of his head.

“Hey. Hey, Sammy, come on. Relax, ok?” He gently lowers Sam’s hand to his lap and Sam starts crying.

“Broken, Dean. I’m so broken.” He starts sobbing. Dean can’t help it - a tear falls from his eye too, as he pulls his brother close to his chest.

“I’ll show you you’re not broken, Sammy. I will. You’ll see.”